It’s late in the evening, she’s wondering what clothes to wear.  She puts on her makeup, and brushes her long blond hair.  And then she asks me, “Do I look all right?”

   And I say, “What in the hell am I doing at your house, and in your room of all places?”

   We go to a party.  And everyone turns to see: this beautiful lady, who’s walking around with me.  And then she asks me, “Do you feel all right?”

   And I say, “Not really.  Everyone’s required to attend, anyway.”

   It’s time to go home now, and I have an aching head.  So I give her the car keys, she tucks me to bed.  And then I tell her as I turn out the light:

   I said, “Darlin’, you better get home before your dad comes a-lookin’ for you with his shotgun.”